CHAPTER XXV
A PERILOUS RIDE
Gerald paid little attention to the caution that had been given him. He looked upon it as given more in jest than in earnest. But had he known that the conversation had been listened to by a stranger whose outward appearance suggested the tramp or desperado he would have felt a degree of apprehension. This man had been staying in the village for a couple of days; he had been one of the loungers at the store, and had listened to all the gossip that was in circulation. Among other things he had heard about the attempt at robbery in which Thomas Nixon came near being a victim, and had listened with interest to speculations about the money kept on hand by the old man.
When he heard the conversation between Gerald and the storekeeper he understood that the boy was about to carry a large sum in gold coins to the bank in Fairfield. Now, Saul Gridley was in a penniless condition. He was very much in want of money, and by no means scrupulous as to the method of filling his depleted pocketbook. He had served time in more than one prison, and had no character to lose. It is not strange, therefore, that he considered the present opportunity a good one for placing his finances in a satisfactory condition. Issuing bonds—a method recently made popular—was impracticable. He speedily formed his plans, and set out at a quick pace en route for Fairfield.
Gerald was detained for half an hour, partly from the necessity of going back to the Nixon home to obtain the gold. There, too, he found something to do for the old man. He lifted the tin box into the wagon and started away.
When he had gone two miles on the road he began to think over the caution which had been given him by Joe Loche. The road, he saw, was a lonely one. It was uneven, and not across the level prairie, for Montana, as its name indicates, is a hilly State.
"It would be quite possible for me to be robbed if I should meet a highwayman," he reflected. "I am only a boy, and, hampered as I am by the care of a team, I should be unable to make resistance. What shall I do to insure safety?"
Gerald began to doubt the expedience of carrying the gold in the tin box, as in the recent attempt at robbery it had become generally known that Mr. Nixon used the box as a receptacle for his treasure. Anyone seeing it in the wagon would at once conjecture its contents. However, this matter could be set right with little trouble.
Montana, unlike most Western States, is rocky, and there were plenty of rocks and small stones near at hand. This gave Gerald an idea. He halted his horse, and began to stuff the gold coins into his pockets. Then he got out of the team and collected an equal bulk of small stones. These he put into the tin box, and then locked it with a key, with which Mr. Nixon had supplied him. The stones rattled as the team made its way over the rough road.
"I don't suppose it was necessary," said Gerald to himself. "Still, it is well to be on the safe side."
He drove a mile further. In the three miles he had met but one team, for the road was an unfrequented one, as Montana was only sparsely settled, and the towns were far apart. Gerald began to think he should not meet any one during the whole distance. This would, of course be satisfactory, and would spare him all anxiety. If he met any one after his errand was completed, and the money safely stored in the Fairfield, bank, it would not matter.
It was fortunate that Gerald made the transfer, for in less than half a mile he was stopped by the man who had overheard the conversation between him and Joe Loche.
"Can't you give a poor fellow a lift, youngster?" asked the tramp.
Gerald hesitated. He noted the appearance of the man, and felt that it might not be safe to refuse outright.
"Where do you want to go?"
"A mile or two," answered the tramp, with a leer.
Gerald considered whether it would be safe to lash the horse and attempt to get away from his troublesome acquaintance, but it did not seem to be practicable. Yet to take him as a passenger, with so valuable a treasure on board, was certainly hazardous. If he had been sure that the tramp was not armed, he might have attempted flight; but of this he could not be sure.
"I will give you a lift for a mile or so," he said.
With a smile the tramp clambered in and took a seat beside him. He stretched out his legs with a look of satisfaction.
"And where might you be going, youngster?" he asked Gerald.
"I am going to Fairfield."
"On business?"
"Well, there is a small matter of business I have to attend to."
"Where do you live?"
"I am living at present in Campville."
"This is Joe Loche's team, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"You don't live with him, do you?"
"No."
"With whom, then?"
"With an old man near the store."
"Old man Nixon?"
"Yes," answered Gerald, reluctantly.
"Humph! that's the man that came near getting robbed yesterday?"
"Yes," answered Gerald, uneasily.
"Lemme see. He kept a lot of gold pieces in the house."
"You seem to know all about it."
"Yes; I heard. He kept them in a tin box—very much like that," and the tramp indicated the box in the wagon.
"Well, suppose he did?" said Gerald, eyeing his companion closely.
The tramp laughed.
"Only that you've got the box in this here wagon, and the gold, too."
"Now for it!" thought Gerald. "The crisis is near at hand!"
"You might be mistaken," he answered, trying not to show the excitement he felt.
"And then again I mightn't. You're taking the gold to the bank in Fairfield."
"Who told you so?"
"Ah, the cat's out of the bag!" said the tramp, triumphantly.
"Well," said Gerald, with apparent frankness, "as you seem to know I may as well own up that you are right. I am glad to have you with me, as some one might try to rob me, and I can rely on your assistance."
The tramp laughed long and loud.
"Oh, yes," he replied, "you can depend on me. I won't let anyone else have the money."
"Thank you! I feel safe now."
The tramp laughed again. To him it seemed like a delicious joke.
He did not seem to be in a hurry to possess himself of the booty, as he felt sure he could have it at any time. It was a good joke that Gerald seemed quite unsuspicious of his intentions.
"How much gold might there be in the box?" he asked.
"Not far from a thousand dollars," said Gerald, frankly.
The tramp smacked his lips. He had never before bagged so much booty. It really seemed like a big stroke of luck.
"A thousand dollars!" he repeated. "That's a big sum!"
"Yes, it is a large sum, as you say."
"Suppose you and I divide it. That'll be five hundred apiece."
"I see you are joking," said Gerald. "It isn't ours. It belongs to Mr. Nixon."
"He's an old man. He don't need it. Besides, he has plenty more."
"Has he really?" asked Gerald, innocently.
"To be sure! Everybody knows that the old man is a miser. Why, I've no doubt he is worth ten thousand dollars."
"Nor have I any doubt," said Gerald to himself. "But, of course, that is none of our business."
"Look here, youngster; you seem to be as simple as they make 'em."
"Why?" asked Gerald, in affected surprise.
"You can't see that I am a bad man, and have made up my mind to have that gold."
"You don't really mean it? You are trying to frighten me."
"No more nonsense! Stop the horse, and I'll relieve you of the box."
"But what will Mr. Nixon say?"
"Tell him it was taken from you."
"Oh, this is terrible! Won't you take ten dollars and let me go?"
"No; I must have the whole. Stop the horse, I say!"
With an appearance of great reluctance Gerald obeyed directions and halted the horse.
The tramp descended from the wagon.
"Now hand me the box," he said.
Gerald allowed him to take out the box. Then he whipped up the horse, leaving the tramp, as he supposed, master of the situation.
He laughed as he saw Gerald driving off.
"The boy is pretty well scared," he said to himself.
CHAPTER XXVI
SAUL GRIDLEY SEEKS REVENGE
The tramp was only amused by Gerald's precipitate flight. There was no object in pursuing him, as he had obtained what he sought—the box of gold coins. He was in a hurry to open it, and realize his good fortune. He felt that Fortune had been kind to him. When once the gold was transferred to his pockets, he would leave the neighborhood, as he knew very well that by the miners' code the robbery would be punished with death.
There was an obstacle, however, to his realizing the fruits of victory. The tin box was locked.
"Why didn't the kid give me the key?" he complained, in a tone of annoyance.
However, that was not a serious consideration. He could break open the box with a large stone, and he at once began to look for one. He had to go some distance before he found one that would answer his purpose. Meanwhile, as he carried the box, he heard from time to time the rattling of the coins as he interpreted the sound, though, as we know, the noise was made by the gravel stones with which Gerald had weighted the box. However, it was only prolonging his anticipation, and anticipation is always pleasant. He laughed to himself as he thought of Gerald arriving at the bank without the gold. Decidedly it was the richest joke of the season.
At last he found a stone that suited his purpose, and began to hammer away at the lock of the box. There was only slight delay. The lid flew open, and with a smile of gleeful anticipation the thief looked into it.
The bitterness of his disappointment can scarcely be imagined. The cup of success was dashed from his lips just as he was ready to taste its contents. The result of his enterprise was only a heap of gravel stones!
"The boy has made an idiot of me!" he said, bitterly. "But where is the gold?"
It did not take him long to guess the nature of the trick that Gerald had played upon him. He gnashed his teeth with rage when he thought of Gerald riding away with the gold in his pocket, or elsewhere secreted in the wagon.
"I'd like to choke the kid!" he growled between his set teeth.
He understood now why Gerald had driven away so rapidly. If there had been the slightest chance of overtaking him, he would have set out in pursuit. But by this time the boy was nearly a mile away, and it would have been foolish for him to entertain such a thought.
In his anger he kicked the tin box furiously; and, not content with that, he picked it up and flung it as far as he was able. He pictured to himself Gerald entering the bank and depositing the gold—his gold, as he regarded it—and entertaining the bank officials with an account of the way in which he had evaded the robber. If only he could be revenged upon Gerald, that would be a satisfaction though the gold coins were lost.
Meanwhile Gerald kept on his way till he reached the bank. He introduced himself to the receiving teller as representing Mr. Nixon, and began to draw out the gold coins from his pocket.
"You seem loaded down with gold," said the teller. "Why didn't you bring the money in a box or bag?"
"I started with it in a box, but put it in my pockets for security."
"You thought that more secure?"
"Yes, sir. But for my doing so I should have been robbed."
"How is that?"
Gerald explained the encounter with the tramp.
"I see you are right," said the teller, approvingly. "The thief will probably be considerably disappointed when he opens the box."
"I should like to have been present and witnessed his surprise," said Gerald, laughing.
"Are you not afraid he will waylay you on your way back, and try to get revenge?"
Gerald looked thoughtful. He realized the danger.
"What would you advise me to do?" he asked.
"I'll tell you. How soon do you start?"
"In an hour."
"Would you object to a companion?"
"No. I should be glad of company."
"Then it can be arranged. My brother-in-law wants to go to Campville. He is a strong, robust man, who is six feet in height, and would tip the scales at two hundred. If you have him with you I think your dishonest friend won't be in any hurry to attack you."
Gerald listened to these words with satisfaction. He knew that the highwayman was more than a match for him in physical strength, and might inflict upon him a serious injury. The plan proposed would insure his safety.
It chanced at this moment that the person referred to entered the bank.
"Louis," said the receiving teller, "here is a young man who offers to give you a ride to Campville."
"I shall consider it quite a favor."
"I ought to warn you that he may be stopped by a highwayman. If you feel nervous–"
"If there is only one person, I think we can manage him, Mr.–"
"Lane—Gerald Lane. Mr. Lane, here is my brother-in-law, Louis Bean."
Gerald shook hands with his new acquaintance, and gave a brief account of his encounter with the tramp on his way over.
"We will give him a warm reception if he undertakes to attack us, Mr. Lane. You played a neat trick on him. So you represent Mr. Nixon?"
"Yes, sir. I shall remain with him for a time."
"Have you known him long?"
"I was sent out by a friend in the East, to whom he wrote, explaining his need of help."
"I suppose the old man is rich?"
"At any rate, he has money enough to support himself in comfort."
"He hasn't enjoyed much of that for some years. I remember his cabin at Campville. It wasn't fit for any one to live in."
"I induced him to move into the house formerly occupied by Jim Morris."
"Was he willing to move? Didn't he mind the expense?"
"Mr. Nixon is not a mean man. He lived poorly because he had not energy enough to make other arrangements. He lets me spend whatever I like for him."
"He is fortunate in having someone to look after him. When do you want to start?"
"As soon as I have had some dinner. Is there a restaurant or hotel in the town?"
"No, but I will take you round to my house. Mrs. Bean will be glad to give you a dinner."
Half an hour later Gerald and his new friend set out for Campville.
"If your friend of the morning stops you," said Louis Bean, "it will be at a point about four miles distant. When we approach the place I will get out and conceal myself, to give him a chance to show what he intends to do. I will see that he does no harm. We will have another joke at his expense!"
This proposal suited Gerald, who had no objection to a second discomfiture of the ruffian from whom he had already had one narrow escape.
At the point indicated by his companion, Louis Bean got out of the wagon and hid himself behind a clump of trees.
"Perhaps he may have seen me," he said. "If so, we shall have no fun. We shall soon find out."
"When matters are near the danger line," said Bean, "blow this whistle."
Gerald drove on slowly, hoping that the ruffian would appear. He had a sense of humor which would be gratified by the opportunity to turn the tables on him.
Saul Gridley's anger had not cooled in the three hours since he saw Gerald riding off, after serving him a trick which humiliated him the more because he felt that he had been worsted by a mere boy. He resolved to punish him for the trick, and felt sure that he would have a chance to do it. There was but one road by which Gerald could return from Fairfield—the same road by which he went.
CHAPTER XXVII
SAUL GRIDLEY'S UNPLEASANT SURPRISE
All at once, five minutes after Bean had left the wagon, the tall form of Saul Gridley appeared in the center of the road. He smiled grimly.
"So you have come back?" he said, as Gerald pulled up.
"Yes," answered Gerald, calmly, though his heart beat rapidly with excitement.
"That was a mean trick you played on me!"
"What do you mean?"
"You know well enough. You thought yourself very smart, when you rode off with the gold and left me a box of gravel stones!"
"I didn't care to give you the gold. You asked me to give you the tin box, and I did so!"
"Yes; but you knew what I wanted. Didn't it occur to you that I would stop you on your return from the bank?"
"Well, you have done so! What do you propose to do?"
"To flog you within an inch of your life!" said the tramp savagely. "Just get out of the wagon, and we will proceed to business!"
As he spoke he seized the bridle, and Gerald felt that the crisis had come. He drew the whistle from his pocket, and blew a loud blast upon it.
Saul Gridley was startled by the whistle. What did it mean? He decided that it was only a ruse, intended to frighten him.
"None of your fooling!" he exclaimed, angrily. "It won't do any good. Get down from the wagon immediately!"
"Thank you. I would rather not," said Gerald, composedly.
"Then, my boy, I will pull you down!"
He started to carry out his threat, when something happened that really startled him. A bullet whizzed by his ear.
"What!" he began, in a startled tone, but the sentence was not finished, for, darting from a covert where he had been concealed, Louis Bean made his appearance on the scene. Saul Gridley stared at him with dazed countenance.
"What are you about there, you rascal?" demanded Bean, sternly.
Saul Gridley was a man who could act the bully with one inferior to himself in strength, but he was a coward in the presence of his physical superior.
"Why did you fire at me?" he asked, nervously. "You might have killed me!"
"I don't think any one would have missed you. But you have not answered my question. What were you doing?"
"I—I was just having a little talk with the boy," he answered, stammering.
"Oh, that is all, is it?"
"Yes."
"What did he say to you, Gerald?"
"He ordered me to get out of the wagon, and threatened to flog me within an inch of my life."
"That is what you call having a little talk," said Bean. "What have you to say to this?"
"The boy must have misunderstood me," stammered Gridley.
"I don't mean that you shall misunderstand me! You attempted to rob this boy a few hours ago."
"I did not rob him. Ask him if I did."
"No; because he was too sharp for you. What is your name?"
"Saul Gridley," answered the tramp, reluctantly.
"How long have you been in this neighborhood?"
"Two days."
"It is not a healthy neighborhood for a man in your line of business. If your attempt at robbery should become known in Campville, you would probably be strung up without delay. However, don't let me interfere with your plans. You want to flog the boy. Well, proceed with your flogging!"
"That was only a joke," said Saul Gridley, beginning to look nervous and apprehensive.
"Then suppose you try to flog me. I offer myself in the place of the boy."
"I don't care to undertake it."
"That is where you are wise. You would find it the biggest contract you ever undertook. Gerald, what–"
"Let me go!" said Saul, nervously.
"I think I had better take you to Campville in the wagon."
"No, no—they would kill me!" ejaculated Saul, livid with fear.
"I will leave it to the boy. What shall I do with this man?"
"Let him go, if he will promise to leave the neighborhood at once."
"You hear? Will you agree to that?"
"Yes," was the eager answer.
"And will you promise never to come back?"
"Yes; I promise solemnly!"
"You had better keep your promise. When Gerald tells of your attempt to rob him, some of his friends may start out to hunt you down."
"Don't tell till to-morrow," entreated Saul.
"No, I won't. I'll give you time to get away," said Gerald.
"You'd better start at once," added Bean.
Saul Gridley lost no time in following this advice. When he was a hundred yards away, Louis Bean fired at him, taking care not to hit him. It is needless to say that the fugitive increased his speed and soon was out of sight.
"He is badly scared," said Bean, laughing. "I don't think we shall have any more trouble with him."
Arrived at Campville, Bean got out at the grocery store, where Gerald left the wagon. He went back at once to the Nixon house.
The old man's eye brightened when Gerald entered.
"I am glad you have come back," he said. "I felt lonely while you were away."
"I am glad you missed me," said Gerald, gently. "I deposited the money in the bank, and here is the bank-book."
"Very well. You may put it in my desk."
"Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Nixon? Was your dinner brought over from the boarding-house?"
"Yes; but I did not have as much appetite when eating alone."
"Yet you lived alone for years?"
"It was not living—it was only existing. Now I feel much better since Mr. Nugent has forgiven me and allowed me to make atonement. Have you written to him since you came here?"
"No. I should like to do so. Have you paper and ink?"
"You will find writing materials in the desk."
"If I can do nothing for you, I will write at once."
"Do so."
Gerald wrote briefly, giving an account of his arrival in Campville, and the condition in which he found the man to whom he was sent.
When he had finished, he asked: "Won't you add a few lines, Mr. Nixon?"
"I don't feel equal to writing, but I will dictate if you will write for me."
"I will do so with pleasure."
Gerald paused with his pen in readiness. After a short time Thomas Nixon began to dictate:
"Mr. Nugent—Dear Sir: I cannot thank you sufficiently for your kindness in overlooking my serious offense, and for sending me Gerald Lane. I was surprised at first that you chose so young a messenger, but already I have seen enough to justify your choice. He has made a new man of me, and provided me with a more comfortable home. I very much needed some one to help me in my business, for I am too old and feeble to attend to it myself.
"One thing I wish to say, that I do not wish you to be at any expense on my account. I will see that Gerald's expenses are paid, and that he has a satisfactory salary. I suppose I am accounted a miser by people in the village, but it is true that I do not care much for money, though I think it a duty to take care of what I have, and with it make what amends I can for my past transgressions. I will see that all the expenses which you have already incurred are paid. A new life is opening before me, thanks to your kind arrangements, and I hope that the close of my life may be more creditable than the years that are passed.
"Respectfully and gratefully,"Thomas Nixon."
Gerald put the two letters in an envelope, and carried them to the post-office. This was in one corner of the grocery store, and Joe Loche, who seemed to be the busiest and most important man in Campville, was the postmaster.
Looking ahead a few days, we will follow the letter to Portville.
It gave great satisfaction to Mr. Nugent, as it confirmed his judgment in selecting so young a messenger. At times it had occurred to him that he was perhaps unwise in throwing so much responsibility on a boy of sixteen, yet it had not seriously weakened his faith in Gerald.
The letter removed all doubts.
Two hours after the letter was received he was told that a lady wished to see him.
"Who is it?" he asked; but the servant was a new one, and could not answer.
"Show her up!" he said, briefly.
Directly Mrs. Lane entered his presence.
"Take a seat, Mrs. Lane," said Mr. Nugent, courteously. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"I wish to know if you have heard from Gerald?" said Mrs. Lane, abruptly.
"I have just received a letter from him."
"May I see it?"
"I must decline your request, since the letter is to a certain extent confidential."
"You will, at any rate, tell me where the boy wrote from?"
John Nugent hesitated.
"As he is my stepson, I have a right to know."
"I am glad that you show an interest in your stepson. He writes me from Montana."
"Montana!" ejaculated Mrs. Lane. "Is not that a long distance away?"
"Two thousand miles or more."
"And he is only a boy!"
"True, but he has the sense and discretion of a young man."
"I am aware that you have an exalted opinion of Gerald," said Mrs. Lane, looking annoyed. "I consider my Abel quite his equal in the qualities you name."
"I am not well acquainted with Abel," said Mr. Nugent, courteously. "If you are correct, I think you are to be congratulated."
"How long will Gerald be away?"
"I cannot tell at present. The gentleman to whom I sent him is much pleased with him, and will give him a good salary."
"Will you give me his address?"
"I do not feel at liberty to do so; but if you will leave any letter with me, I will forward it."
"You seem to forget that I am his stepmother."
"No, I do not. If I hear anything connected with him which warrants it, I will notify you."
"I wish Abel had his chance," thought Mrs. Lane, as she rose to go. "Mr. Nugent is infatuated with that boy."